


Stranger Tides

by hannahhsolo



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Billy Has Big Boat Energy, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Captain Billy, Gay Billy Hargrove, Governor's Son Steve, Harringrove, Lets Get Booty, M/M, Mild Language, Not Canon Compliant, Pirates, Pirates AU, Pirates of the Caribbean References, Pirates of the Carribean - Freeform, Rating May Change, Spoiled Steve, steve harrington is a brat, swashbuckling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:15:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22283965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannahhsolo/pseuds/hannahhsolo
Summary: 1724Steve Harrington is the only son of the Governor of Port Hawk, the Caribbean's wealthiest port. He finds himself taken hostage by the crew of The Black Tiger, the most notorious pirate ship in the seven seas, captained by the most feared pirate of them all, Billy 'The Beast' Hargrove.A Harringrove Pirates of the Caribbean AU.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 44
Kudos: 228





	1. The Black Tiger

**Author's Note:**

> yo yo yo my dudes. so i'm kinda struggling with LA songbook atm, which is annoying because i was cray excited about it like a week ago, but some shit happened irl this week that makes that heavy shit a little hard to write, so instead of writing that and instead of writing my dissertation i thought i'd have a little swashbuckling fun with our boys, cool?  
> i have the attention span of a fucking fruit fly i swear.  
> this is just inspired by PotC, won't be a carbon copy, just taking some inspo from characters and situations  
> so i can't promise quick updates but this ones gonna be pretty short but a lotta fun so grab your cutless and lets sail on the black tiger with princess stevie and captain billy  
> ahoy!

Steve Harrington had always loved the Caribbean sea. It had been one of the few blessings that came with the curse of moving to Port Hawk when he was only 8 years old, after his father had been appointed Governor. Even on the most unbearable days in the summer, when the sun burned his fair skin, the ocean had always been a relief. Simply looking at the gentle lapping of the waves cooled him down and settled his soul.

Yes, Steve loved the sea, but that love dwindled a little when he was floating on said sea without any recollection of how he got there.

A dull ache in his temple had jostled him from a deep sleep. He could feel the ropes around his wrist that bound them behind his back, and the gentle sway of his beloved ocean under the decks of whatever ship this was. The blurriness in his head was starting to clear and with his newfound clear head came panic, the last thing he could remember was going to sleep in the balmy heat of his bedroom at the house. He looked down at his nightshirt, it was a little blood stained and torn and Steve had no recollection as to how it got there, or how he got there for that matter.  
His panic had descended into downright terror by the time a burly looking older man with a ratty waistcoat and a limp waddled towards him, pipe in mouth. Steve would have screamed for help if he thought there was any use, but the miles of vast, empty ocean he saw told him it would do him no good. The man stopped dead in front of Steve and scrutinised him closely. And, to Steve’s amazement, he recognised him.  
“Master Hopper?” Steve’s throat was raw, and between the hoarseness and the confusion, he barely recognised his own voice.  
Underneath the grime and his unkempt appearance, the man that stood before him was Sailing Master James Hopper, he had been an honest man and loyal friend to Steve’s father until his disappearance several years ago. His whereabouts was something of a mystery in Port Hawk, a mystery Steve hadn’t expected to be solving on that day.  
The older man replied a grunt and stone cold eyes, thrusting his flask towards Steve’s mouth. Although he would have liked to pour the drink into his own mouth, he wasn’t about to complain at the idea of relieving his thirst, and opened his mouth gratefully to sip the beverage.  
He hadn’t been expecting water, of course, but he also had not been expecting rum. The liquor burned his throat on the way down and made him wince, stinging the cut he hadn’t known was on his lip.  
As of yet, he'd had no real verbal reply from Hopper, and was beginning to grow tired of his ignorance.  
“Hopper!” He gathered up the vocal and mental strength the rum had afforded him, “Under the order of the King, you must return me to me to Port Hawk at once, my father is Governor Stephen Phillip Beckett Harrington III and if you would like to avoid the noose I suggest you ensure my safe return before nightfall.” Steve knew how he sounded, petulant, and that petulance always worked.  
He wanted to be returned to the comfort of his house, the candlelight and roast dinners, to admire the sea from afar. It had nothing to do with his father really, in fact, he could count the times he had seen his father in the last year on one hand. But he knew his father’s name meant something in these waters, and any ship that sailed under the King’s flag would be bound by law and honour to pay attention to it.  
Steve’s little performance was rewarded by a smirk and low chuckle from Hopper, who shook his head in his direction, plucking the pipe from his lips,  
“That shit didn’t work on me when you were small, boy, y'know it ain’t gon’ work on me now.”  
As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Steve knew he was right. He had accompanied the Harringtons on every voyage they had taken as a family, from their very first one to Port Hawk ten years ago, to the short trips between islands they undertook before the elder Stephen decided his son didn’t need to be brought along anymore.  
Steve scrunched his eyebrows together, Hopper continued,  
“And before y’start yammerin’ about the King, y’should really take a peek at what colours the ships sailing under, kid.” He motioned with his pipe toward the mast.  
And there it fluttered, seemingly unaware of the way it was innocently floating on the breeze, altering Steve’s destiny, the Jolly Roger. High above a ship with black sails, and the pieces were falling into place inside Steve’s head.  
“Pirates…” Steve whispered, mostly to himself, as a confirmation of the dreadful truth he had uncovered. He had been taken hostage, onto a pirate ship and was now far away from home. If one could call Port Hawk home of course.  
“Aye, welcome to The Black Tiger, young Stephen. Make y’self at home for this’ll be ye lodgings for the foreseeable.”  
Steve blanched at the words, he had of course deduced that he had been taken for a reason, and would not be set free without a fight, but Hopper’s words had insinuated that he wouldn’t be seeing that freedom for a long time.  
Plans of escape ran through Steve’s mind, he was handy with a sword, having taken lessons since he was old enough to walk, but he had always been told never to cross swords with a pirate. Steve knew how to win a fair fight, and pirates did not fight fair. 

How would he even get a sword anyway?

He thought of feigning illness or disease, that although pirates were notoriously not the most sympathetic bunch, they might prefer to return him than die of plague. However, by the looks of Hopper’s pallid complexion and stumbling gait, health wasn’t on the high list of priorities on this ship. At best, Steve would be marooned, and worst he would be shot and tossed overboard.  
There was nothing he could think of doing, and eventually he resigned himself to sit on the deck, listening to the mumbling crude voices of the crew and await his sorry fate.  
Unless…

"Parley! I invoke the right of parley. According to the Code of the Brethren set down by the pirates Morgan and Bartholomew, you have to take me to your captain."

Hopper stopped dead in his tracks, with his back still to Steve,  
“I know the code.” He muttered gruffly. A silence had descended over the rest of the crew, whom he couldn’t see, but he could feel the glare of.  
"If an adversary demands parley, you can do them no harm until the parley is complete." Steve uttered, with as much confidence as he could muster, but his voice still shook a little.  
Hopper turned to meet Steve’s terrified stare.  
“I wasn’t gon’ hurt ya, kid. But if y’wanna see the Captain, that’s what ya’ll get. He’s been waitin’ for ya.” The grin that cracked across Hopper’s face revealed slightly stained teeth and the promise of danger.  
“But ye be warned, I might not hurt ya, but there ain’t nothin’ stoppin’ him.”

Steve’s hands were still tied behind his back, he was just in his tan leather britches and nightshirt, he was barefoot and the pain in his temple was still causing his vision to be slightly impaired. Hopper’s tight grip on his shoulder helped guide him as well as keep him in place as they walked up the stairs to the stern.  
The Black Tiger was a rather impressive vessel. The craftsmanship was extraordinary and the ornate detail was to a degree that Steve had never seen on any merchant or Navy ship before. Of course this wasn’t a merchant, nor a Navy ship. This was a pirate ship, manned by thieves and hedonists who would take from anyone as long as the could do it stylishly.  
Heavy wooden doors were swung open and Steve was thrust into the Captain’s quarters.  
Maps and scrolls littered every available surface, from the mahogany escritoire to the liquor table, where decanters of golden spirits clunked with the swell of the tide. There were several globes around the room, of all colours and sizes and hung maps of seas and lands that Steve was sure didn’t exist.  
In a large velvet arm chair behind the desk sat the person Steve had so graciously requested the acquaintance of. Brown boots on the desk; white shirt open to his navel; golden curls, frizzed slightly from the damp sea air, tangled amongst beads and trinkets; hefty rings on each finger that tapped the side of his face impatiently. Most frightening, however, was the salacious grin that licked over white teeth and crinkled twinkling eyes set like jewels in bronzed skin. He was far too young to be captain of a ship of this size and notoriety.

Dazzling looks?  
Arrogance seeping from his skin?  
Too young to be captain of this vessel?

Steve knew in that moment who this man was.

Captain Billy Hargrove. The Beast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading my guys, if u wanna see me freak out come say hi on tumblr---- hannahhsolo ----- i wanna make new friends.  
> and pretty please leave me a review, it lights up my life when i see one in my inbox, and i sure do love kudos as well !!  
> see u on the flip love u loadssss xox


	2. The Pawn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> back back back again, we get a little hint as to why billy has kidnapped our stevie boy.  
> im on a roll today lads, might even smash out another after im back from uni xoxox

His gaze was calculating, underneath the facade of his irritating grin. The atmosphere in the room was tight and the gentle sway of the sea beneath them made Steve dizzy.

It felt like decades before the Captain eventually spoke.

“You can leave us now, Jim.” His voice was low, rough, but exuded authority.  _ Jim? _

Hopper nodded and left the quarters, the door closing behind him with a solid  _ thwack. _

Steve had to admit that having Hopper there had made him a little more comfortable, it really shouldn’t have but a familiar face was worth a thousand strange ones in a threatening situation. Even if that familiar face played a part in the threatening.

The Captain swung his legs off the desk and rose from his seat. He motioned with a flourish for Steve to take a seat in the wooden chair in front of him. His cocked eyebrow made it seem like a request, but Steve knew it was anything but and so took the seat, choosing to pick his battles.

The Captain poured himself a drink from one of the decanters on the sideboard, the crystal looked expensive, but none of the glasses matched. He poured two.

“Drink.” A lick of his teeth as he held a tumbler in Steve’s direction.

Steve’s hands were still tied behind his back and so he had no way of doing so. He simply hardened his stare.

“Oh! How  _ rude  _ of me!” He laughed heartily, it was so loud that Steve expected the ship to shake below them.

He placed his foot on the arm of the chair Steve was sitting on, invading his space without touching him, and pulled a small blade from his boot. It was small, but sharp and the silver glinted orange in the candlelight. Fear swelled in Steve’s gut, but the Captain simply leaned over, his shin bone pressed against Steve’s shoulder and cut his binds loose.

Before Steve could blink, he settled into the same position as before, leaned back, legs on desk. The glass of liquor sat in front of him.

“Now, drink.” It was a demand. He took a sip from his own.

Steve should have been worried about poison, but he had seen the Captain pour his own from the same decanter, and he was so parched by then he would have drunk just about anything.

Steve rolled his newly free wrists, taking note of the sting of rope burn and gulped down the whole glass in one. It was cheap rum, and it burned.

“Well, well, well, the princess can drink. Another?” His cheeks were drawn up, eyes dancing.

“Please…” Steve nodded gruffly, choosing to ignore the thinly veiled insult.

The Captain was more than happy to oblige and wandered around to pour him another. This time, however, he stayed on Steve’s side of the desk, leaning against it and dripping with arrogance.

Steve sipped it this time. But the liquid courage from the first glass allowed him the confidence to speak up.

“What do you want from me, Hargrove?” 

His laugh got even louder this time.

“The boy has  _ bite, _ ” Steve almost wanted to point out that there couldn’t be much difference in their ages, the only thing making Hargrove look any older than Steve’s 18 years was the ship he captained, “But I’m afraid you have it all wrong, Stevie.”

“My name is Stephen Harrington IV, show me some respect,  _ pirate.”  _ He flashed his family name like a cutlass again, but he wasn’t sure why. He knew it wasn’t going to work. His title held no power here, among pirates. And he was certain that this pirate in particular knew exactly who he was, that was the reason he was here.

He shook his head with serious eyes, leaning in closely to Steve.

“I don’t care who you are, you’re just a pawn,  _ Stevie.” _ His voice was icy, and Steve was  _ afraid. _ “But your daddy dearest has taken something of mine, something I want back. And until I get it, well, let us just say that Port Hawk will have to cope without its princess for a while.” 

His laugh came out in a taunting little ‘Ha, ha, ha’ as he knocked back his second drink.

Steve wished he could point out that he wasn’t important to Port Hawk, but he thought that might harm his case. If they knew that his father probably hadn’t even realised he was missing by that point, they would probably slit his throat and hang him by the fort just to make a point.

But the truth was that Steve wasn’t important, not really. He didn’t have the military intellect to join the Navy, the few attempts his father had made at pushing him into a military career had ended with him being the laughing stock of the recruits. He wasn't politically driven, and so his father’s hopes of him taking over as Governor had failed. In reality, Steve wasn’t really good at anything, and his life was heading straight towards failure. These days all he did was sit around at the house getting pampered, while several tutors tried and failed to get him interested in piano, fencing, mathematics. Fencing was one thing he wasn’t horrible at, but his skills paled in comparison to some of the other boys in his class.

The one good thing he had in his life was his betrothal to Miss Nancy Wheeler, daughter of Theodore Wheeler, one of the wealthiest spice traders in the empire. They had been good friends since childhood and Steve had been smitten with Nancy for a long time. Their engagement sought to bring a union between two of the most affluent families in the Caribbean.

Nancy was quiet, intelligent, and quite charming. Delicate features and laced corsets. She smiled sweetly at him while he kissed her hand, and he could see her being a fine wife for him.

Now, as he got more and more drunk in the cabin of a criminal, his world of Nancy Wheeler and mathematics lessons seemed like a different lifetime.

“What did he take from you?” Steve needed to know more about the situation.

“None of your fucking business. All you need to do is stay here and look pretty until the King’s ships catch up to us. Then, I negotiate and get back what is  _ mine.”  _ Hargrove growled, one gold tooth in the corner of his smile twinkled against the rest.

Steve noticed, with his close proximity, more charms and beads woven into Hargrove’s golden curls. The slash of a scar cutting his thick, dark eyebrow in two, just one of many white scars marring his flesh. One of which he knew to be the ‘P’ Commodore Jonathon Byers had once burned into his forearm. He had heard the stories.

Whether Hargrove caught his stare or not, he flinched away suddenly and strode over to the windows at the back of his cabin. He looked out over the ocean, back to Steve, who simply sat there dumbfounded.

“Hopper will show you to your quarters. There are fresh clothes for you there. Now,  _ out.”  _ He didn’t look at Steve, simply stood, surveying the waters with hands on his hips, and a wide stance.

Steve didn’t move.

“ _ Out.”  _ He repeated, with more venom. And in rushed Hopper to haul him away.

Steve’s quarters were nothing more than a glorified cell below decks. But still, more than he had expected. After Hopper had thrown him into the small room and locked the door, Steve had taken in the small cot and blanket, barely long enough to accommodate his tall frame. There was a mirror, a wash bowl and a table, and nothing else. A pile of clothes sat at the end of the bed, and Steve was grateful to be out of his blood-soaked nightshirt, even if the clothes they provided weren’t exactly the fine silk he was used to. There was a linen shirt, a pair of breeches and a cotton waist coat. As well as a pair of hefty boots that were about the right size.

After he got changed, the trauma of the day finally caught up to Steve and he fell into an exhausted sleep.

He felt as though he had slept forever, and in this room, he could have done, there was no way of him telling what time it was. With no windows, let alone a clock, Steve was stuck and he had no choice but to accept it.

Hours passed, and Steve spent the time staring at the four walls around him. Maybe this was their plan, leave him down here to go mad, if he didn’t starve to death first. But his woeful thoughts were interrupted by a scrawny shipmates opening his door with a huge ring of keys. 

The boy couldn’t have been older than fourteen, with curly black hair and hunched shoulders. 

“You’re dining with the Captain tonight.” The boy grumbled, “And you’ll wear this.” He thrust a dark pile of clothes towards him, much finer quality than what he was wearing. 

“Tell the Captain I’m disinclined to acquiesce his request.” Steve spat back.

“Captain thought you might say that. He said otherwise ye’ll be dining with the crew.” Steve didn’t think that was so bad.

“And ye’ll be naked.” The boy’s smile revealed missing teeth.

“Give me a moment to change.” Steve sighed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos and comments brighten my day !!  
> thanks for reading my dudes x


	3. The Agreement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just cant stop writing my dudes, these boys got me weak.  
> yo ho ho

The Captain’s dining room was laden with a feast worthy of a King. Which lead Steve to believe that Hargrove was a King of sorts, the King of this ship. He had a crew at his beck and call, with the burden of having to lead them, he had to form strategic battle plans and establish trade agreements. He was King of his own small Kingdom.

The table displayed roast chicken, countless cheeses, bread, fruit and wine. Steve’s mouth watered instantly. He didn’t know how long he had been on the ship, and he was starving. 

In answer to his thoughts, his stomach grumbled under his velvet overcoat. The clothes Hargrove had provided for their dinner were finer than the ones he had been given previously, but they were not exactly to Steve’s taste. He preferred lighter colours, pastel blues and soft golds, the coat and shirt he had been provided with was a deep burgundy, but nevertheless he was grateful to be back in velvet and silk.

“Stevie, welcome!” Hargrove stood by the table, arms and grin wide. He was adorned in clothes as luxurious as Steve’s but his own coat was a little longer and black. His shirt was still open to his navel though, and he seemed to be wearing more jewellery than before, Steve hadn’t thought that possible.

He poured Steve a cup of wine and pulled the seat out for him with a flick of his wrist. One couldn’t say that Billy ‘The Beast’ Hargrove didn’t have charisma, everything he did, he did it with theatrics. His hands never stopped moving as he spoke, fingers fiddling with the air making his ring clunk together.

Steve took his seat and waited for Hargrove to begin. 

“Where are my manners?” Billy shook his head, “Shouldn’t keep a guest waiting, go ahead. Eat.” All Hargrove picked up was a bunch of grapes, he set his feet on the table-  _ and he spoke of manners?- _ and picked slowly at the fruit. Steve didn’t need to be told twice, he filled his plate with food and dug in ravenously.

Billy simply watched him with a lazy smile, popping a grape into his mouth.

“I wouldn’t say I am your guest, Hargrove.” Steve grumbled around a chicken leg. The meat was exquisite.

“ _ Captain.”  _ Billy snarled, and something about his voice made Steve freeze, “There should be a Captain in there somewhere.”

Steve was almost too afraid to meet his eyes, but when he did he was met by pure fire, burning in the blue.

Steve reached for his wine and took a large gulp.

“You are not  _ my  _ Captain,” Steve forced the words out, he forced himself to be brave,” _ Hargrove.” _

The table shook as Hargrove used it to push himself up, before Steve had time to realise what was happening, he was by his side, strong muscles turning Steve’s chair to face him. He had a blade to his throat.

“Continue to test me, Harrington. See where it gets you.” He was whispering, and the closeness of his face meant that he could feel his breath.

“There is something wrong about this, something wrong about  _ you.  _ I’ve had you for two days now, yet no sign of the Naval fleet. No word that they are even close. So tell me, Harrington, where are they?” A hand closed in on Steve’s neck.

“Did you send out word for a surprise attack? Are my men working against me?” He looked deranged, and sounded paranoid.

“Or maybe,  _ Stevie,  _ daddy dearest just doesn't care about you…” His words entwined around Steve’s already weak defenses just as his hand moved to his shoulder, blade still drawn to his neck, “Maybe, I did him a favour, taking his disappointing son off his hands. You rich boys aren’t worth the shit on my boot really, good for nothing but fucking and killing.” 

Steve spat in his face.

It was a knee-jerk reaction to Hargrove’s vulgar comments, and as soon as he had done it, he was certain he had just signed his own death sentence.

But Hargrove stepped away, laughing in fact. He took a silk handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his face, he kept it bundled in his hand while he spoke.

“So  _ that’s  _ it.” Steve couldn’t tell if he was grinning or if he was baring his teeth.

“You know nothing of my life, Hargrove.” Steve mustered all the scorn he could manage.

“True, but I think it's all becoming clear now, Stevie.” He tapped his finger thoughtfully on his cheek.

Steve’s frustration was growing exponentially,

“ _ Christ,  _ it’s  _ Steve.”  _ he blew out without thinking.

Hargrove’s eyes snapped to him, they were softer now. Maybe even playful?

“What?” He sounded choked, almost as if he was lost for words. Who ever thought The Beast could be rendered speechless.

“If I’m going to be on this ship for as long as I fear, I can’t take that ‘Stevie’ nonsense. Call me Steve. Please.” He folded his arms across his chest. He had snapped.

“And yes, you’re right! I doubt my father has sent the Navy looking for me. I doubt he has even realised I’m gone. I know you are  _ The Beast  _ and have the strategical prowess of a God but this time? If you wanted to bargain? You have taken the wrong man.” Steve didn’t know at which point in his little speech he had gotten up from his chair. But now, he was stood just by Hargrove, waving his arms around like a madman.

“Because, there will be no bargaining for my life, Captain Hargrove. In fact, my father would probably pay you to take me off of his hands!”

Later, they would argue about who thought of it first. The genius plan that would get Hargrove’s property back and buy Steve his freedom. But their eyes both lit up almost simultaneously in that moment before the Captain said,

“Well, Steve, I think we can help each other.”

* * *

It was the next day, and Steve had been allowed onto the deck, part of his bargaining with Billy. The sun was hot on his cheeks and he was grateful for the light linen shirt he had been given his first day on board, he could see why most of the men wore them.

He stumbled around a little, getting in the way of the crew several times before a boy with curly brown hair told him to ‘ _ just go see the cap’n already!’ _

Said Captain was by the helm, one hand on the wheel, one on his hip. His coat was gone and he was just wearing an open black shirt, breeches and boots. And of course the hat. His hat had not yet made an appearance yet it now felt like Steve couldn’t remember what he looked like without it. It was a black tricorn with a white feather pluming from one side, it was humble, yet extravagant. It suited him perfectly.

The ocean breeze blew through his tangled curls as he barked orders at his men. 

_ Heave ye mangy dogs! _

_ Avast ye sons of whores! _

_ Hoist the main sail before ye get grey, Hendersen! _

Seeing him there, blown by the wind, made Steve understand. In that moment he got it, Billy was good at what he did and Steve found himself a little envious of the freedom he seemed to possess. He had a magnificent ship, tens of men at his disposal and only the horizon for a deadline. The pirates’ life really was made for some people.

Steve hopped up the steps to join him by the helm, crossing paths with Hopper on his way.

“This better work, kid.” He bumped harshly into his shoulder and went on his way.

Steve was a little concerned that Hopper seemed to know of their plan, they hadn’t agreed to let anyone else in on it yet. But he had to admit that having Hopper with them on this could only be a blessing. He was the one who knew the most about the military operations in Port Hawk. He wrote the book on most of them.

They had stayed up most of the night hashing out the details of the plan. And by the end of it, they both felt a little more comfortable with each other. It wouldn’t work if they didn’t work together and if all went to plan, it would be over before the summer was out.

_ “Before I agree to anything, Hargrove, I need to know what he did.” Steve sat up straight, feeling that he had at least some authority in this situation, now that he had a purpose. _

_ “I don’t need to tell you anything, Harrington, don’t forget where you’re sitting.” Billy was intelligent, perhaps more intelligent than Steve, despite his education, but teamwork clearly wasn’t his strong suit. _

_ “Cut the shit and just tell me.” Steve had never cursed out loud before. Outside of ‘damn’ and ‘Christ’. ‘Don’t use the Lord’s name in vain, young Stephen’ his nanny would say. _

_ There was a long pause, Hargrove looked weary. Whether it was the wine or the company, he had grown suddenly more serious. _

_ “He took my sister.” He necked back what was left in his cup. _

_ Now Steve had not been expecting that. He had thought there was some treasure involved, some Aztec gold or precious gems. Never did it cross his mind that this was about family. _

_ “Maxine Mayfield, you may have heard about the trial.” Hargrove’s fingers fiddled with the air again. _

_ He had heard, she was just a child but was wanted by the guard of Port Hawk for theft and treason. He hadn’t been in attendance but he had heard about his father’s involvement in the trial, but then again, his father was involved in all trials against piracy. _

_ “But...Billy…” his eyes shot up at the sound of his first name, “ she was already sentenced, she avoided the noose. You should be grateful.” As soon as the words left his mouth he regretted them. He was never to see his sister again, of course he wanted to do something about that. _

_ “Don’t you dare.” His stare told Steve to back off, and he did. _

_ “That was insensitive, I apologise.” Steve stuttered. _

_ It earned him a gruff nod from Hargrove, apology accepted. _

_ “I don’t need opinions from you Harrington. What I need is your cooperation. So, your father doesn’t care for your well-being. However, he does care for his reputation, correct?” _

_ Steve nodded, too afraid to cut in at this point, given his earlier comments. _

_ “So you stay here for a while, learn the ways of the sea. Or at least pretend to. I return you, his only son and heir to Port Hawk, almost a pirate. In front of everyone. We embarrass him. I agree to return you for proper rehabilitation only after Max’s release. Once I have my sister, what you do is your business.” It was a little different to the plan Steve had devised but not by much. And the stakes were far higher than Steve had anticipated. Once he returned to Port Hawk he could explain the whole thing to his father, marry Nancy and return to his life as it was. _

_ “But if you want my advice, pretty boy?” Pretty boy? That was new. “You’ll take that opportunity to get out of that shit pit once and for all.” _

_ “Captain Hargrove...I didn’t realise you cared.” Steve mocked, more relaxed now. _

_ “I don’t. Now do we have an accord?” Hargrove held out his hand. Steve took it. _

_ “Billy.” _

_ “Steve.” They nodded to each other. _

_ Steve left his quarters that night feeling lighter and with a strange tingling at the pit of his stomach. _

_ He put it down to nerves. _

_ But it was getting harder and harder to deny, there was something about Captain Billy Hargrove that got under his skin. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find me on tumblr @hannahhsolo  
> thank u for all the lovely reviews so far, please keep them coming !


	4. The Apprentice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here it is my guys !!  
> so im trying but its getting hard to keep these two apart, pretty soon theyre just gonna start banging on the fuckin deck  
> hope u like this one guys, gonna slam out another tonight i think cos im working 5 days this week and there aint gonna be a lotta time for writing  
> hope u guys enjoy it xoxox

“Mr Harrington! Nice of you to finally join us!” Billy flashed him his wide grin. The few shipmates who gathered sporadically around gawked at Steve. They didn’t even try to hide their interest. Steve thought they ought to watch their manners, and then he realised who he was surrounded by. Manners didn’t appear to be very high on pirates’ list of priorities, if Captain Hargrove was anything to go by.

“Captain Hargrove, as much as I wanted to wallow in my self pity for a few more hours, I thought my presence might make your day a little brighter.” Steve quipped back, earning a lingering smile from Billy. They stood there, smiling at each other until a small bearded man coughed, breaking Billy’s trance. 

He slapped the man on the shoulder.

“On deck you scabless dogs!” The small audience they had gathered broke and scrambled away from them, Billy’s authority scaring them into action, “Bauman, take the helm, Mr Harrington and I have some...business to attend to.” The bearded man nodded and took Billy’s place by the helm.

Billy placed his hand on Steve’s back and guided him to the stern with his signature flourish.

The sea was still as a mill pond that morning, the lightest of breezes whispered around them, drowned out mostly by the echoes of the distant chatter of the crew. The ship felt alive that day, and as he watched Billy lean against the rigging, looking out at the horizon, he could almost see the appeal in this life. Almost.

“As much as I’m enjoying the view, Hargrove,” he motioned to the wide stretch of water, “is there a reason I’ve been blessed with an audience with you?” 

“Well, Stevie, I thought we might take this opportunity to begin your training,” He unsheathed his cutlass from his belt, Steve squeaked.

“Hargrove! Wait, wait, wait...I...I’m not armed, I…” His voice had raised a few octaves and he had backed up against the shroud.

Billy’s laugh boomed,

“Oh Stevie,” He followed Steve with a few swaggering steps, the heels of his boots knocking the deck until the sword was almost touching Steve’s chest, “I was going to provide you with a sword, but if you’re going to keep making those noises, I’m keeping you unarmed.” He winked salaciously, and Steve didn’t really know what to do with that.

Billy retracted his blade.

“ _ Goddamn  _ you Hargrove,” Steve pouted and folded his arms, “and I  _ thought  _ we agreed no more bloody Stevie.” 

“Oh Stevie, you kiss your daddy with that mouth?” Steve just now realised that Billy was chewing something, he smirked.Once again, Steve didn’t know what to do with that.

“No.” He simply pushed himself off the shrouds and shook out his shoulders.

“I know you are a pirate, Captain. But perhaps you might indulge me in some semblance of a fair match. If we are to fight, where might I find a sword?” Steve squared himself off against Billy’s snark. He was a man of high social standing, and if he wanted respect from this man, he had to prove himself worthy of it. To pirates, he thought, actions may speak louder than words.

Billy’s eyes shone.  _ Ah, he likes the challenge.  _ He threw him his own blade and Steve caught it by the handle. Thank the lord, the last thing he needed was the embarrassment of a cut already. Steve was grateful his lacking coordination didn’t fail him then.

“I tell you what, princess, I’ll give you an advantage. You use mine for now, but be careful, she’s a wild one.” Billy stalked off in the direction of the staircase, towards his quarters.

Steve took the moment alone to get a feel for the sword. He wasn’t used to fighting with a cutlass, it was the weapon of a criminal, but he had handled a sabre once or twice and thought that might work to his advantage. He felt its weight in his hand, heavier than straight swords he was taught to fight with. The maisters of Port Hawk created elegant swords, meant for fencing matches between the rich and the richer, Steve wasn’t sure he would describe this blade as elegant, but it definitely had personality.

When Billy returned, he was holding another, similar cutlass. A little more worn and less polished, looking how he would expect a pirate’s weapon to look.

“The first thing you must know about a pirate,” Billy was already speaking before he came into view, “is that we are pirates for a reason.” 

He took and exaggerated bow, arms spread like he was proud of the title ‘pirate’. Steve supposed he was.

“You must forget all the ceremoniousness and resplendence of your posh little fights and expect the unexpected. You are fighting to win, nothing else.” He drew his blade, Steve followed.

They began to dual, cuts followed by parries, the sound of metal against metal the loudest noises on the ship. Steve was holding his own, surprisingly, until an attack to his side had caused him to lose his balance, Hargrove took advantage and used his left boot to swipe Steve’s legs from under him, sending him barrelling to the deck.

“You cheated!” He was out of breath,

“Pirate.” He held an upturned hand first to the centre of his bare chest then out to Steve. His gold tooth glinted in the midday sun.

Steve took his hand but instead of pulling him up, he bent down to meet him halfway.

“You were moving your feet,” Billy whispered through clenched teeth, “plant them next time, draw a charge.” Strong muscles pushed him back down onto the deck. Steve felt like he had been cheated several times in under a minute, and now he was even more flustered.

Nevertheless, he picked himself up.

Billy was stood with one hand on his blade, the other on the sash at his hip when Steve stood up. Chin high, licking his teeth.

“To fight a pirate, you must think like a pirate.” He flourished his blade. “The way you fight is attractive, to be sure, but if you’re trying to win?” He laughed and shook his head. “Pretty boy, you’re failing.”

Steve’s hackles raised. If he wanted a dirty fight, he was going to get one.

They went into a dance as before: cut, defence, attack. Steve took Billy’s advice and focused on his stance, aware of what his feet where doing at all times. It was a task not to admire the way Billy fought, he was rough but energetic and everything he did, he did with charisma and performance, without losing any accuracy. His eyes never seemed to leave Steve’s but he still didn’t miss a trick, it was as if he knew what moves Steve was going to make before he made them. So, Steve decided to give that a try.

He thought of what his next move was going to be: a moulinet; straight down toward Billy’s left shoulder. Knowing Billy’s style by now, he would give an extravagant twirl to avoid it. So when he did, he ensured his blade was ready to meet him. Billy clearly wasn’t expecting it, which left them there, Billy pressed against the taffrail, the tip of his own cutlass at the centre of his heaving chest.

They were both windswept and panting, the fight had been the most physically exerting Steve had ever had.

“Impressive, Stevie.” Steve rolled his eyes at the nickname.

“But one more thing…” His tongue licked at his smiling teeth again. The same foot from before swept around and once again took Steve’s feet from under him, the cutlass clattered as it dropped from his hand.

“ _ Shit.”  _ Steve huffed out on his way down, grasping Billy’s belt while he had the chance. 

_ If I’m going, he’s coming with me.  _

Billy’s own blade dropped at the same time he did, and they landed in a pile on the deck. The dense weight of Billy pinning Steve to the deck under him. Their faces were almost touching and they could feel each other’s hot breath. 

_ Hm, tobacco. So that’s what he was chewing. _

“Plant your  _ fucking  _ feet, Steve.” His words were inflammatory but his eyes twinkled in amusement.

Neither of them moved. For an embarrassingly long time. And Steve must have hit his head, because he sort of felt like he might want to kiss him.

“Captain! Sir, we got a situation.” It was Hopper’s voice, and with it Billy sprung to his feet. He stalked off, leaving Steve sprawled on the floor, wondering what in the world had just happened.

One thing he knew had happened  _ for certain  _ though? He’d called him Steve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thoughts?  
> your comments give me life  
> come say hi on tumblr @ hannahhsolo !! im probs screaming about something  
> but u could come scream with me !


	5. The Stowaway

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this au is getting in my head, i bought fabric conditioner called ocean breeze and said aye unironically. hm maybe im just nothern.  
> enjoy !!

The situation, as it turned out, happened to be a stowaway. The scrawny little lad had sneaked on board when they had been moored at Port Hawk, if the word of the crew was anything to go by. Billy had sent a kid by the name of Henderson to escort Steve back to his room. It was the same boy he’d seen that first day on the deck. So many of the shipmates on this vessel were just boys, and Steve’s heart bled a little thinking about how they all ended up there. He had no right really, calling them kids, they’d probably seen more hardships in their short lives than Steve ever would.

Henderson was talkative, more than talkative, he never shut his mouth. Which meant that Steve was up to date with the private affairs of the crew by the time he was back in his quarters.

“And the kids shivering, not wearing any shoes or nothing…” Henderson had gotten to the topic of the stowaway just as the were approaching Steve’s cabin,

“Kid? What he’s younger than  _ you _ ?” Steve couldn’t hold back his scoff.

“I’m fifteen, you ass.” The soft Caribbean accent in his voice coming a little clearer. 

“And try it, I’ll show you what this  _ kid  _ can do with a sword.” He scowled up at Steve. He suddenly seemed a lot taller.

The door was shut in his face.

Steve signed and threw himself on his bed, his long day of practising with Billy had really taken it out of him. Both physically and mentally. If he was honest, his head was a mess. If someone had told him a week ago that he would be on board The Black Tiger today, duelling with Billy Hargrove, or better yet  _ working  _ with him. He’d have called them mad and ordered them off to the asylum. But after the last few days, he wasn’t as confused as perhaps he ought to be, in fact he was quite enjoying his time on board. True, the crew gawked at him like he was made of gold, and his boarding situation left a lot to be desired. But, Steve had to admit that the simplicity of life on the ship was somewhat freeing. He didn’t have to worry about grace or decorum, the people here just appeared to live, unashamed of who they were, and Steve admired that, he was even a little jealous.

And then there was the enigmatic Captain. Captain Billy Hargrove. The Beast. His very presence exuded authority, he looked as if he could turn a man to stone from a glare alone. But when he looked at Steve, he didn’t feel like stone at all. Quite the opposite actually, he felt all sorts of things at once. Like passion, for everything he was doing, passion for the sword fight; the food he ate; the wine he drank; passion for the sea; the sky, everything. He felt inspired by Billy’s intelligence, that was one thing that he had not expected. His mind was brilliant, during the three nights they had shared dinner, he had spoken about art, literature, science. His education appeared to rival Steve’s and the intelligence he had gained from it for exceeded Steve’s. The fire that lit in his eyes when he spoke about a novel or a philosophical idea was softer than the one that roared when he was fighting, but of the same kindling. Steve wondered about his life, where he had come from, his accent said England but his visage was exotic. He was bronzed skin, thick muscles that had clearly seen labour, pendants, beads and trinkets that spoke of a world traveller. Yes, The Black Tiger’s Captain was an enigma. And Steve wasn’t sure he would ever solve the mystery that lived within him.

But a small part of him wanted to try.

As Steve stood up to change, assuming he would be dining with Billy again tonight. He noticed something. A book, sitting on his end table. 

The cover was dark green, the words:  _ Robinson Crusoe  _ embossed on it. It was by Defoe, Steve had never heard of him. His interest in literature had never been strong enough to extend his reading beyond the Chaucer and Shakespeare his tutors had assigned.

He opened the cover to a note written just inside in elegant calligraphy that could only belong to one Billy Hargrove.

_ Research. _

_ B. _

Steve had never been one for reading, but the idea of having something to preoccupy his time alone in his room was more than appealing. And he was grateful to Billy for that, even if it was under the veil of his education in piracy.

He chose to forgo changing for just now, and settled back on his bed, turning the first page.

‘ _ I was born in the year 1632, in the city of York…’ _

Steve was entranced, Robinson had just boarded the Portuguese ship with Xury, when he heard the familiar sound of keys in the lock to his room.

He’d expected Hopper, or perhaps Henderson to be there to escort him to dinner, and worried momentarily that he hadn’t changed yet.

Instead, however, there stood the Captain himself, in his open shirt, black velvet coat, gold buttons glinting in the candlelight. He was leaned against the door-jam, fiddling with the set of keys. It was strange to see Billy below decks. 

_ I’m the boss Stevie. _

He looked too large for the low ceilings, although he was an inch or two shorter than Steve, and his jewellery and ornate garments had no business down here. It was strange, Steve had thought that Billy looked more like a pirate than any pirate he might have imagined, but seeing him here, in the bowels of a ship, he was just out of place. It was like seeing King George in the palace kitchen.

He seemed relaxed though, eyes burning blue through the dark rings around them, with a lazy smirk on his face as he gave Steve a once over.

_ Ah, not dressed for dinner. _

“Billy.” Steve said in greeting, placing the book face down on his bed to save his page.

“Oh no no no,” Billy rushed over to grab it, “You’ll break the spine, here.” 

He used his free hand to remove a string of beads that was tangled in his hair somehow. He made expert work of removing it and placed it in Steve’s hand. He looked at it, it was a piece of twine about four inches long, with a few glass beads and a gold coin dangling at the bottom. It wasn’t as precious as some of the other things Billy wore, but it was certainly quite beautiful.

He laughed at Steve who looked up at him in confusion. He thought it an odd gesture to give him this as a gift, and he had no idea what to do with it. His hair was longer than his father like it to be, put not long enough to tie this into it.

“Mark your page, Steve.” His eyes were still laughing as he nestled the trinket between the pages and close the book. The beads and coin poked out. 

“Ah.” Steve finally caught on and he chuckled a little too at his mild idiocy. 

At some point during their exchange, Billy had sat with Steve on the tiny bed. It dipped with his weight. Steve sat the book down and looked at Billy.

The fire was there again, in his gaze, but it was just embers now. Still burning, but calmly, only just staying alight.

Steve’s heart was beating heavily, he felt it might start rocking the ship, and once again, he wanted to kiss him. 

It wasn’t as if he’d never kissed anyone, his childhood friend Christine had kissed him when he was twelve, in the courtyard outside his house. He’d kissed Nancy Wheeler once, on a rare moment when they were alone and he was feeling brazen. A quick peck as an act of defiance to his father, who was well out of sight.

But  _ this.  _ This was difference, it was heat and it was  _ passion.  _

And Billy was a man.

All hard muscles and strong jaw and staring at him as though he might want to kiss him too. Steve scalp prickled as the pressure in the room seemed to build and build and the candles flickered and he smelled the sea in Billy’s hair and the tobacco on his breath and he felt faint like he might collapse.

It was all teetering on the edge of too much...when Billy spoke.

“I need your help.” And the spell was broken, just like that.

Billy cleared his throat and stood up, a giant in the tiny space of the room.

“W...With what?” Steve tried with all his might to shake off whatever had just happened. He failed.

“The situation Jim mentioned before…” His tone was non-committal and he waved a hand flamboyantly by his side. By his eyes were scrunched closed.

“The stowaway.” The words were out of Steve’s mouth before he could stop them. He wasn’t supposed to know that.

_ Don’t tell Cap I told you, Harrington. _

“How did you know that?” he said through a furrowed brow,

“Henderson?” His voice was small, but these few short days had taught him that lying to Billy was no use.

“Fucking Dustin,” he hissed under his breath, “I knew I shouldn’t have trusted him with you.”

And Steve couldn’t begin to comprehend what  _ that  _ meant.

“So what is it, Billy?” Steve’s befuddlement was rising by the second.

“Get dressed and come with me.”

* * *

They entered Billy’s quarters through the heavy wooden doors. 

There was a small boy with brown hair tied to a chair, his back to them. They circled around and Billy motioned for Steve to follow him behind the desk. A rare honour if the word of the crew was anything to go by.

Steve looked up at the lad, jaw falling instantly.

“William?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im now thinking about how pirates just speak like northerners  
> let me know your thoughts here or tumblr @ hannahhsolo  
> love ya lads xoxox


	6. The Boy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all aboard

William Byers was the younger brother of Commodore Jonathon Byers. Jonathon had been one of Steve’s schoolmates, one that he had teased mercilessly throughout most of their childhood, and one that out-performed him in almost every way. Jonathon was more intelligent, military-minded and wicked with a rapier. He’d risen through the ranks of the Navy quickly, even despite his low social status. His mother Joyce was a kind woman that ran a small haberdashery in the town, his father a merchant sailor that was gone for most of the year. Jonathon had grown from an awkward, gangly child to a fine upstanding military man, Port Hawk’s golden boy who worked closely with Steve’s father.

_ Why don’t you spend a little more time with Jon, Stephen. You could learn a thing or two from him. _

Jonathon’s younger brother William was a quiet child, but worshipped Steve like the moon. He rarely spoke to him, just lingered quietly while he was studying or walking the grounds. He’d seen him at one of their dueling tournaments once, he’d cowered at every clunk of metal and violent exclamation. Steve understood, Jonathon fought well, but in fighting well there had to be some kind of violence, and Will Byers was not a violent child.

  
  


“Steve…” Will’s brown eyes widened when he saw Steve, but there was something soft in them, something like relief.

Steve felt Billy’s hand on his shoulder,

“You know this boy?” and Steve tried not to feel it too much. But that was proving to be rather difficult when every nerve in his body lit up with the sensation of  _ Billy’s touch.  _

He shook himself out of it, he needed to focus on the situation at hand.

“Yes, this is Will. He’s...his brother Jonathon is an acquaintance of mine.” Steve nodded but furrowed his brow. 

Will’s face grew more worried when his brother’s name was mentioned.

“Commodore Jonathon Byers?”  _ Ah, that’s why.  _ Billy smirked first at Steve, a smirk which morphed into an evil grin as he surveyed the boy tied to the chair. Of course Billy knew who Jonathon Byers was, he was the most the Navy’s shiny new toy, with the intelligence to take down even the most prolific of pirates. 

Know thy enemy.

“Well, it seems our little trip to Port Hawk was more fruitful than I had previously accounted for.” Steve could practically see the schemes whirring in Billy’s eyes.

Steve ignored him, choosing to concentrate on Will for now.

“Why are you here, Will? Why would you do this? Your mother must be worried sick.”

Hopper cleared his throat in the corner of the room.

“I...I…” His eyes searched around the room.

“Speak, boy!” Billy slammed his fist on the desk. That was the first time that Steve began to understand why they called him The Beast.

Will visibly flinched and screwed his eyes shut, he was a sensitive lad, Billy’s harsh words would do him no good.

“Steve asked you a question, answer it.” He was simmering and Will was getting more and more afraid, quaking under Billy’s gaze. Steve couldn’t let this go on, they’d never get anything from the boy if he kept this up, he laid a hand on Billy’s shoulder, mirroring his earlier action. It was a light touch, but he felt the rippling muscles under his palm mellow a little, he leaned in to whisper,

“Calm down, the boy’s afraid.” into Billy’s ear.

“Good.” Billy didn’t try to whisper his reply.

“Let me do the talking, I’ll get your answers. You just have to trust me.” Billy straightened out and Steve removed his hand. Billy caught it by the wrist, blue eyes smouldering into brown ones. Steve thought for a second that he might hit him, that would have been ridiculous, of course, would have shown a crack in the bizarre partnership they were forming. It would have shown a weakness in the gamble he had taken on Steve, and therefore a weakness in him. Billy couldn’t let that happen, and Steve knew that.

So he just nodded, and let go of Steve. He skulked off to the corner of the room, watching the rest of the exchange with a scrutinising stare.

“Will, do you understand how dangerous this is? These people? They don’t take kindly to stowaways.” Steve rounded the desk so he was close to Will, he perched on the edge of the desk, relaxed.

“I know...Steve but I had to…” A bead of sweat dropped from under his dirty hair. He had to calm him down if he wanted any answers.

“Alright, Will, alright.” He held his hands up, a kind of surrender and paused in thought for a while. He could feel Billy’s fidgeting presence.

“Do you remember, the day of your brother’s promotion ceremony?” He asked gently, stirring a memory of last summer, one of the few occasions that they actually interacted, and Will didn’t just observe from afar.

“Yes.” Will didn’t move, just stared at Steve, eyes wide.

“You remember how hot it was? Unbearably so. And we had to stand there, in those silly outfits for hours.” Steve liked the tailored coats and frilled shirts, but he knew Will didn’t. And he couldn’t deny they were entirely inappropriate for the weather.

“You fainted, just as they completed the ceremony.” Will interjected, and Steve would have been embarrassed if his plan wasn’t working.

“Yes, yes I did. And then what?” Steve coaxed.

“And we left, you said we shouldn’t have to watch the whole ordeal anyway and we ran. We went back to the house, missed the dinner and everything.” Will was smiling at the memory. Steve remembered the day well, he’d felt inadequate watching his father dote on Jonathon, and he knew Will felt inadequate watching his brother receive the praise. 

“That’s right, lad. But do you remember what happened that night, when you went home?”

Joyce had gone ballistic. She had worried about Will all day, come up with all sorts of theories as to where he’d gone and almost gone mad in the process. And Will had only been missing for a few hours then. They’d been sailing for at least four days now.

“My mother was worried.” 

_ That  _ was an understatement.

“Yes, and you love your mother, correct Will?” Steve leaned in, Will nodded.

“So why would you want to make her worried again?” 

Silence laid steadily, the lull of the ocean rocked the ship.

“I couldn’t stay in Port Hawk any longer, Steve.” And there it was. “The people there, they treat me like dirt. I don’t want to be stuck there, don’t want to join the Navy like my brother, don’t want to work in the haberdashery, I just don’t want it!” There was a fire in Will like Steve had never seen before.

“So you decided to sneak onto the world’s most dangerous pirate ship?”

Steve could practically hear Billy’s smug smirk from behind him. Arse.

“It can’t be any more dangerous than staying there.” His voice was grave,

“If I wasn’t here they’d probably have tossed you overboard by now.” Steve said, because it was the truth.

“At least I’d be free.” 

And that? That, Steve understood.

“Enough. Jim, take the boy below decks. Harrington, stay.”

There was an anger in Billy’s interruption, to be sure. But he wasn’t seething anymore, and Steve couldn’t quite place who the anger was directed at.

Hopper untied WIll and escorted him out, leaving the two men alone.

“You’re lucky that worked, Harrington.” He approached him, and stood close. If they were in public this would have been deemed inappropriate. But, then again, everything about Billy Hargrove was inappropriate.

“I don’t usually let people defy me.” Billy let out in a huff. He was disgruntled, but amusement lay under the surface.

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not  _ people.”  _ Steve wasn’t sure where his newfound confidence came from. Perhaps it was his success with Will, maybe it was simply the sea air. Whatever it was, Billy seemed to like it. He licked his teeth.

“So the boy just wanted to escape.” His voice was soft, softer than Steve had ever heard it. 

“He hated his life so much that he was willing to die for the slim chance of freedom. So he jumped on a pirate ship and hoped for the best, knowing it was more likely to fail than to succeed.” Billy spoke in a voice so quiet, Steve wasn’t even sure it was meant for him. It crossed his mind that maybe he wasn’t talking about Will anymore.

Steve’s heart ached with the realisation. And suddenly the man in front of him wasn’t the big bad Captain anymore, but barely even a man, so close to his own age but with far more weight on his shoulders. Steve wanted to touch him, wanted to comfort him, wanted to embrace him. He wanted to kiss him.

And out of everything that had happened to him over the last few days, all the confusion and inner turmoil, that was one thing he was sure of.

And he would have done it too. Honestly, he was about to press his own lips to Billy’s, take him in his arms and show him all that he wanted to do with him. Yes, he would have done it.

If Billy hadn’t beaten him to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope u enjoyed fellas !!  
> leave kudos or a comment because it lights up my little gay life !!  
> come send me a message on tumblr @hannahhsolo i promise im nice and always wanna talk about these boys !!


	7. The Unknown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo ho ho bitchesss  
> so im super sick and using writing this fic as a way of making myself feel better...so this one is a little fluffy, but its also sweet  
> i promise we'll get to the drama soooon  
> anyways i hope u enjoy it x

Billy tasted of rum, and tobacco. Steve was wrapped up in him, he was all he could taste, smell, see- even behind his closed eyes. He couldn’t say for certain how long he they had been kissing, it was probably only a few brief seconds, but it became Steve’s whole existence, the only reality. He could tell in that moment that he was irreversibly changed, Captain Billy Hargrove had become ingrained in Steve’s identity in that kiss, like the rings in a tree trunk, he ran all the way through him.

All too soon, the kiss ended, before it had really begun. And Steve was suddenly too afraid to open his eyes, he was too afraid of what might be staring back at him, or even worse, not staring back at him.

“Steve…” Billy’s voice was still soft, and Steve wasn’t even sure if he’d meant it to catch his attention, he’d said it almost like a prayer. Maybe that was just wishful thinking.

“Steve?” His voice was a little more insistent now but Steve could hear the humour in it, “Did I kill you? Was it that bad?” 

Steve’s eyes eventually fluttered open, Billy wasn’t as close as before but he was regarding him with a smile. Upon closer inspection, there was a little apprehension in his eyes though, and his laughter was almost nervous. If he wasn’t donned in his signature billowy shirt and jewellery, Steve would have thought that he was an entirely different person to the confident Captain he was used to meeting.

“Stephen, if you don’t say something soon...I swear…” He squared up a little and ran his hand through his curls, “I shouldn’t have done that, please accept my apology...maybe I overstepped a line and this doesn’t have to change anything, I truly didn’t…” He was rambling, and Steve gathered up every little bit of courage that lived anywhere within him to close the gap between them and seal his lips over Billy’s once more.

Billy hummed with surprise into Steve’s mouth before he relaxed again and wrapped his thick arms around his waist, both of Steve’s hands moved from Billy’s face to rest lazily around his neck as he melted into his touch.

Steve should have been ashamed, if he was to believe anything he had ever learned, this made him an abomination, an outcast, a criminal. But out of everything that had happened while he had been on  _ The Black Tiger,  _ this was one of the only things that felt entirely, authentically  _ him.  _ Maybe the first time he had been authentic in his whole life. Here, in the arms of this man, with the waves bobbing languidly below him, Steve was himself, and he had truly never felt that before.

Suddenly, the contact was gone, Billy’s strong hands pushed him away to his side so that he fell back into the small wooden chair where Will had been tied with a  _ thud.  _ The disappointment he felt was short-lived.

A knock sounded at the door and the sudden rejection made sense. Steve had a fleeting thought about how Billy knew someone was coming, but this ship was like Billy’s body he knew every one of it's pulses and movements.

“Enter.” Billy was making a conscious effort to sound like his calm, collected self, and it probably would have been convincing if Steve hadn’t had his tongue in his mouth thirty seconds before.

Steve didn’t turn around to face Hopper as he entered the cabin, the heat he felt in his face, and Billy’s warning glance told him that he could give them away at any moment.

“The crew is turning in, Cap’n, need anythin’ from me?” Hopper was just doing his duty as first mate, checking in and following orders, but Steve resented him a little for interrupting.

“No, that’s all, thank you Jim.” He flashed a tight smile.

_ No, Billy, that was way too polite. _

“Everythin’ alright, Sir?” Hopper’s voice was laden with suspicion.

“Yes, Hop. You can go to bed now.” He spoke sternly, and the captain was back. It was enough to convince him and the heavy doors to the cabin closed again.

Silence hung heavy in the air between them. Neither of them wanted to break it, and neither of them knew how. But Billy, always with the element of surprise, began to laugh.

It started small, a cautious chuckle aimed at the floor before it built, a crescendo of raucous laughter that echoed about the room. He threw his head back and laughed with a open-mouthed smile, and ripples of cacophony that stirred the same in Steve. He was laughing too, the whole situation finally catching up with him, how bizarre it was, how thrilling, how exciting.

Billy was wiping away tears by the time it dwindled and looked over at Steve with the most genuine expression, eyes aglow and teeth bared.

“Everythin’ alright, Sir?” Steve asked cheekily, trying to do a caricatured impression of Hopper’s voice.

Billy raised an eyebrow, and Steve felt his blood rush south in a way he never had before. He’d been aroused of course, he had enjoyed kissing Nancy, but the instantaneous tightening of his trousers as Billy approached him was new, and by far the most intense thing he had ever felt.

Billy swaggered over to where he sat, wide steps and thudding footsteps, he was like a hunter stalking his prey. And Steve was all too happy to be hunted.

He stood by his side and Steve stared up at him in wonder, he looked otherworldly: golden skin a little flush, blonde curls glowing like a halo in the candle light, before he threw a legs over both of Steve’s and straddled his lap. 

Steve didn’t have time to wonder if the chair was strong enough to hold both of their weights before he was distracted by Billy’s lips and teeth on his neck. He couldn’t hold in his euphoric moans at the feeling, and he must have gotten a little too loud because Billy’s fingers covered his mouth.

“Nuh uh, Stevie, you have to be quiet. Can’t have the whole crew coming in here and catching you in a...compromising position.” His fingers caught on his lower lip and dragged it a little as they made their way down to the laces that kept Steve’s shirt together. 

He wanted to say that the crew wouldn’t dare barge into their captain’s quarters but he barely had the ability to form thoughts, let alone words at that moment.

Billy’s calloused hand, rings and all, was pressed against Steve’s now bare chest, the warmth of it seeped through his skin straight to his heart, he wondered if Billy Hargrove had sunshine in his blood.

Their lips were on each other once more, it was harsh and rough and Steve was certain his lips would be bruised in the morning. But he wanted more, to touch Billy more, to feel him more and if that came with Billy’s signature imprinted all over his skin that was only a benefit.

Billy tugged on the front of Steve’s shirt as he rose from his lap, pulling him up with him.

“Bedroom.” His voice was low and gravelly.

Steve should have been expecting it really, sex was natural to Billy, he probably did it all the time. And Steve, who had obviously been saving it for his wedding day, as was expected of him, shouldn’t have been surprised that the kissing had been building up to that. He was a little confused of course, he’d heard playground tales about how two men might...do that, but he had never paid much attention. They had been spoken like dirty secrets and Steve made it his business not to indulge in dirty secrets. Now that it was here, staring him in the face, he wasn’t sure he was ready. For sex at all, whether that be with a man or a woman.

Billy must have sensed his apprehension, and decided to put him out of his misery in a very un-Hargrove-esque way.

“Relax, Princess. There’s no way you’re ready for that. We’re just going to sleep, and I don’t want you to go back to your room just yet.” If Steve didn’t know better he might have thought the big bad captain was blushing.

Billy laced his hand in Steve’s and pulled him through a door to the left of the desk that he hadn’t noticed before. Steve was more than a little dazed, worn out from the day and flustered from the kissing, and he didn’t notice much about the room apart from soft candle light and the feeling of plush velvet on the bed.

Both men settled, propped against the headboard, not touching. The absence made Steve’s body ache, he had gotten a taste of Billy Hargrove and didn’t know how he would ever go without him again, so he extended the arm closest to him to gently rest on his forearm. There it was again, that heat.

Billy moved slowly, and then all at once, to wrap himself around Steve, legs thrown over him, head on his chest, and Steve unknowingly let out a breath he had been holding.

“Relax, Princess,” Billy whispered into Steve’s bare chest, sticky lips echoed his words from earlier, “we’ll talk tomorrow.” 

The promise of tomorrow. It all came down to that in the end, and Steve didn’t know what that meant, he wished, he hoped, but he didn’t know.

There was so much he didn’t know. About himself, and about Billy. All those things he didn’t know crowded his mind like shadows of monsters late in the night, shadows formed by Billy’s quiet sobs when he thought Steve was fast asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thoughts? feelings? screams into the void?  
> all are welcome  
> comments and kudos are my favourite things ever, i love them even more than peanut butter  
> love u guys, come say hi on tumblr----@ hannahhsolo  
> xox


	8. The Winds of Change

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yooooo   
> so this ones my favourite so far, like not a lot happens but it's SOFT and that's just my favourite, okay?  
> the majority of the chapter is just staring but that's okay...steve likes staring  
> anyways enjoy you filthy pirates xoxoxox

Steve had gotten used to waking up in his tiny room, long legs spilling out of the bed that he was sure wasn’t even meant for a child. He was used to waking up to stuffy heat and subtle nausea from the endless rocking of the tide and no view of what time of day it was. No matter how used to it he had gotten, however, he still hated it just as much, hated feeling sick, cramped and disorientated at the start of each new day.

So the relief he felt when he woke up in Billy’s bed was immeasurable.

He was woken by the sunlight, peaking through stained glass and flooding the room with a million colours. He’d not had much chance to observe the quarters the night before, but seeing them in the delicate morning light was a sight to behold. It was all dark wood and velvet red. Ostentatious, yes, but not as sparkly as he’d imagined, given Billy’s love of treasure. It was masculine and rich and Steve wanted to live there forever, the red of the blankets became Billy’s flesh, the morning light his soul.

The only thing missing from the vision of perfection he’d awoken to, was Billy himself. The sheets were cold where they should have been warmed by his golden skin, dipped with his weight still. Steve momentarily pondered how many years Billy had been sleeping in this bed, whether he was always alone, whether he’d always cried.

The whole thing had been a blur, but the one anchor to the evening was the image of golden curls on his stomach, Billy’s cheek plastered to his skin by tears that seemed to fall and fall and fall. Steve had seen Billy’s broken insides before, perhaps more than he had seen his fierce bravado, it was obvious to Steve in everything he did that he was hurting. Then last night, after Steve had given in, stopped fighting, thrown caution to the wind, his exterior had cracked too, and it broke Steve clean in two.

Steve’s bones groaned as he stretched out, they too were not used to sleep comfortably, but the creaks they gave as he padded across the bedroom were welcome and sort of joyous. The most flamboyant artefact in the room was a looking glass that was strategically placed to catch the morning light perfectly. It was gilded in gold, to moulded lions holding it up at either side. Steve wasn’t sure how the brittle bones of the ship held it up.

He caught his own eye in the silver, eyes that looked more alive than they ever had. His brown irises looked like molten bronze, wide and blown against curdled cream skin, his lips were still red and bruised, so swollen he couldn’t press them together.

The awe at his own appearance faded into terror about the stated of his brunette mane, wild and untamed, his comb still sat with the rest of his possessions on his nightstand in his cabin. The wild would have to do.

Billy had folded some new clothes on the Fauteuil by the door, Steve dressed swiftly, grateful to be in clean clothing. He tamed his hair with the comb that sat on top of them.

The swell was a little choppier that morning, the wind whipped about the decks, slapping Steve’s cheeks raw and drying out his eyes. The sun still shone, though, and the wind made it pleasantly cool, it was Steve’s favourite morning so far aboard the ship. He took his time to wander about the ship, to marvel in this place, that was not really a place, it was never in the same place twice. Steve thought he might like to be like that, only constant by moving.

When he eventually found Billy, he hadn’t realised he was smiling. He was by the stern, one hand atop his brow, shielding his eyes from the low sun, the other resting on the wheel of his beloved  _ Tiger.  _ His shirt was open, and it struck Steve that he had never been jealous of the breeze before, of how easily it ghosted over the plains of his chest. His voice was hoarse as he barked orders as his crew, his tone was a little rougher that day, he had to work his crew harder against the force of the wind, the muscles in his jaw seemed to be doing half the work of the whole crew. He was tense, but Steve could see the apples of his cheeks drawn high, involuntary smiling with his eyes, even if his lips held hard to show the crew he wasn’t playing with them. He didn’t want anyone to see that he was enjoying this, but he was, and Steve saw.

Steve leaned a little loosely to the rigging, long hands gripping the ropes to keep his body upright. He was pouring all his attention into watching Billy thrive in his element at that moment, there was nothing left to hold his body up. Steve must have been blinking when Billy eventually spotted him, because he was almost too suddenly watching him. Gaze burning just as hot as ever, Steve thought the weight of it might knock him down even across the distance of the deck. He met the gaze through heavy lashes, and pulled up half of his mouth into a lazy smirk, but he knew there was no way he looked as good doing it as Billy.

Billy licked his teeth and  _ grinned.  _ Which, just about eclipsed everything in Steve’s life, including the blinding sunlight, he was just silhouette and smile. And that was enough.

“Steve?” The voice wouldn’t have distracted him if it wasn’t so familiar. Steve tore his gaze from Billy like you might tear a seal from an envelope, to look at Will. He looked even shorter and more scared than Steve remembered. 

“Will. How are you?” The look in Will’s eyes showed him that he needed his full attention.

“I’ve been better.” He looked at the ground as he spoke, with one of those short nervous laughs that come when you don’t know what else to do to fill the silence.

“I’m sure. But Will...you chose…” Steve couldn’t quite find the right words.

“Do you want to go home?” They both looked at each other for a beat, as if they didn't know who had asked the question. It had strangely enough been Will.

And it forced Steve to think something he hadn’t even pondered over since he first arrived. _ Did he want to go home? _

“I’m not even sure what that means, Will.” If he couldn’t be honest with a scared child, who could he be honest with?

His brow furrowed in confusion.

“It’s just, home’s a funny word right?” Steve shrugged, “What do you think it means?”

Steve had unconsciously dipped his head a little, a feeble attempt to get on the same level as the younger boy.

“It means somewhere that you always return to, somewhere where  _ family  _ is, I guess?” He stared down at his knotted fingers as he spoke, he sounded just about as sure as Steve felt.

“Yeah, I suppose that sounds right. But where is that for  _ you,  _ Will? Is it Port Hawk? Because if I’m honest, it’s not for me. That town was never home. But if it’s yours? And you want to go back? You shouldn’t deny yourself that. I’ll help you, if you want to go back, the next time we make port it will be easy to arrange transport back. But you need to think about what you  _ want.  _ Because, this life isn’t kind- and I’m not just talking about being a pirate. It’s not kind, and you need to find your place in it if you want to survive, let alone enjoy it.”

By the time he’d finished, he wasn’t even sure he was still talking to Will anymore, who’s eyes were even wider than he thought possible.

“And what if I don’t know?” 

“Then use this.” He clapped a firm hand on Will’s fragile shoulder, “Use your present circumstance to find future opportunity.”

Will smiled and nodded once, before Steve released his shoulder.

The shoulder wasn’t free for long before a stronger hand, laden with rings too the place of Steve’s.

“Byers.” Billy’s voice was pointed and warning, “I thought I told you to find Wheeler and help him with the decks.” It didn’t matter what words were coming out, his tone said  _ go. _

“Yes Captain.” He scurried off like a mouse running from a flood.

“You,  _ with me.” _

They were back in Billy’s cabin, this time Steve wasn’t in front of the desk like he was facing his school master; he was perched atop it, with foot resting on the arm of Billy’s chair. Billy removed his hat, throwing it down on the desk and flopped into the chair, one hand scrubbing his face the other resting on Steve’s boot, he  _ squeezed  _ it.

“You can’t  _ do that,  _ Steve.”

Steve tilted his head like a confused puppy.

“Can’t do  _ what,  _ Billy?” He widened his eyes, teasing him slightly. But Billy’s pointed glare told him he wasn’t joking. Steve would have bristled if it wasn’t for Billy’s reassuring hold on his foot.

“You can’t  _ mollycoddle _ my men.”

“I’m not  _ mollycoddling  _ anyone, Billy. And they’re not men, they’re boys. They’re  _ children.  _ And  _ that  _ boy?” Steve pointed to the door with his thumb, “He’s one step from falling off the edge.”

Billy rolled his eyes and huffed. That only served to remind Steve that Billy was only a boy himself, petulant and grumpy.

“I don’t know what you’re suggesting.” His hand gave a flippant gesture in that signature Billy Hargrove way.

“I’m suggesting, that those children out there? They need someone to watch out for them. Trust me. You’ll have a better crew if they do.”

That’s what his eyes were saying to Billy’s.

_ Trust me.  _

“And you’ll do that? You’ll watch out for them?” 

He was still a young boy, even more so. His eyes were soft and gooey. If Steve didn't know better, he’d say he was afraid.

“Yes. While I’m here.”

Billy’s shoulders slumped. He raked his hands through his curls and sniffed, and Steve was broken in two again.

“ _ Why?  _ Of all the kids in the world, why did that one show up here?”

Steve wasn’t sure what Billy meant by that. He leaned over to the side of his chair to wear Steve’s boot rested, he snaked his hands a little further up Steve’s calf and pressed his forehead down, kissing the supple leather on top of Steve shoe.

Steve’s eyes were watery and he carded a hand through Billy’s curls.

“He even has my  _ name  _ for Christ's sake.”

And there it was, the first time Billy had allowed himself to be vulnerable in perhaps his whole life, with Steve. A simple matter of days later, a child had shown up aboard his ship, dejected, nervous and downtrodden by the world, looking to start his life all over again.

Steve wasn’t sure how, but he  _ knew. _

Billy saw himself in Will. And he was terrified of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how was it? okay? worth the wait?  
> my twitch thot fic is taking so much of my attention rn cos im tryna get it at least someway done for week of love, but we'll see.  
> anyways leave a comment or kudos if u wanna, i like em. but i wont force ya, you're nice just for reading, i love y'all.  
> tumblr---@hannahhsolo


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